


Maybe Just Stay

by Robiness



Series: Slow Sunrise [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Clover Ebi Lives, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Post V7 except Salem never came, light fluff, they're okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22527583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robiness/pseuds/Robiness
Summary: Qrow wants to stay imprisoned. This way, he can't hurt the people he loves.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Slow Sunrise [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621939
Comments: 44
Kudos: 328





	Maybe Just Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Well, the V7 finale was a thing. Sigh.

Qrow sighed, his breath fogging up the glass of his cell window. The surprisingly large room had an excellent view of Solitas, even better than his rooms in the Academy.

Too bad he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it. Too bad that in all that snow, all he can see is red, red blood, and the light leaving Clover’s eyes.

It’s been a few weeks since he let himself get arrested. Robyn was put in a different cell from him, but she’d probably get released soon, if they hadn’t released her already. She tried to help prove his innocence by offering her hand, but he had refused. 

He was no innocent. 

Qrow was born with a killer instinct — one he managed to tame over the years, and redirect to those who deserved it, but one he could never eradicate completely. He was used to death and destruction, but sometimes, he lost himself to more primal decisions. The soldier had been focusing too much on him, hindering his attacks on the Faunus bastard, and he… he...

He wondered if Clover had it, too. If the Ace-Op leader understood that in the heat of the battle, you sometimes made stupid decisions and lashed out at the wrong people. 

He closed his eyes, and banged his head softly on the glass. Clover had been… different once the warrant was released. Rigid. Curt. Colder than the snow they crashed into. 

Suddenly, he was the embodiment of the Atlesian mentality Qrow hated.

Qrow remembered getting afraid - the fear that he _got it all wrong, should never have let my guard down, it’s always the same_ —

But Clover didn’t deserve what happened. He didn’t, no matter the rash actions that led them all to that point. Even if he hadn’t been… kind to Qrow, he still didn’t deserve...

_I wanted to trust you._

Clover was back, then. The one that was his partner, maybe his friend. He’d returned to Qrow, slowly, but he _did_.

But it was too late, and Qrow had already fucked things up beyond repair. 

Hell, he needed a drink. The prison guards gave him meals, to his mild surprise, but he barely touched anything except the water he wished was enough to quench the thirst. 

He did manage a few bites of food at a time, just in case… just in case his kids needed back-up, or something similar. 

_Who are you fooling? Whatever happens, you’ll always be the liability._

At first he thought this recurring voice was Raven’s, his sister come to haunt and mock him. After a few days, however, he absently realized it was one of the tribe leaders back from when he was young. When he was lost. Before he thought he had found a purpose with Ozpin. 

He’d laugh, but his throat was too dry. He really needed a dr—

 _No._

Even if by some miracle (or bout of stupidity) he was released, he would not go back to that version of himself. He had to keep his head, for Yang, for Ruby and the others. 

He had to keep his head to kill Tyrian Callows, as well, in the most painful way he knew how. And that bastard better pray to more than just his _goddess_ , because Qrow had been trained for this kind of hunt since he was born.

He vaguely registered pinpricks of pain, and looked down at his fists, still held together by the bolos. He opened his hand to disinterestedly look at his bloody palm. It wasn’t the first time he’d held the pin so hard that the sharp point eventually found its way into his skin. 

The pin was still intact, ignoring the mixture of his blood with Clover’s. He tried to clean it early on, at first with his cape, then with the water given to him, but in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to erase the reminder of his failures. 

He had hoped, before this mess... he had hoped that unlike Summer, _Clover_ would be safe from him, at least safe enough to get to know, to trust —

“I heard you got something of mine,” he heard from behind him. Slowly, he opened his eyes, not moving.

Qrow's senses told him that the person was approaching, although they also told him that the footsteps were intentionally loud. “Qrow?”

He remained still.

“I was hoping this would be more of a happy reunion.”

After a long silence, Qrow turned. 

“Clover,” he breathed, almost no sound leaving his lips. His eyes watered, but he quickly shook his head to get rid of the imminent tears. He had no right. 

When he opened his eyes once more, Clover was still standing a few feet away. The cell door was wide open in the back, although Clover stood awkwardly, partly turned towards it. Qrow didn't blame him, and didn't understand why he was came in the first place.

Clover wasn’t wearing his uniform. He wore loose white joggers, and a white vest with the buttons undone, revealing extensive bandages over his torso, bits of metal peeking through. 

Qrow kept his eyes on the injury, not allowing himself to look at Clover’s face. “You lived.”

“Yes, we Atlesians are very proud of our dependable technology,” was the simple answer, accented by a serious nod. Then, Clover let out a small huff of laughter and removed the hand from his hip. “Well, I say that, but it’s still a huge relief, honestly. It worked out better than expected.”

The rise and fall of the chest made Qrow feel the same relief, but… _How can he laugh with me here? After everything?_

“Qrow,” Clover said softly. “Can you look at me? Please?”

Qrow’s eyes slid up to teal, because he would never deny Clover Ebi anything ever again.

“I’m here to… to apologize, really.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. _What the f_ —

“I knew it was a tough decision, but it was unfortunately wrong, too. I was blindsided, my mind was racing, trying to figure out what to do. It's no excuse, I’m a trained soldier, but suddenly I had tunnel vision and I’m so sorry—”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Cl—Clo—” he couldn’t bring himself to say the name out loud, so he just angrily trudged on, standing. “Are medications still messing with your head? I should be the one apologizing, I should be _groveling_ at your feet, you stupid Huntsman, I _killed_ you.”

“Callows stabbed me,” the infuriating man corrected. “Almost fatally, I admit. But you didn’t attack me beyond what I deserved in that situation.”

“You’re insane.”

 _"Callows_ is insane. Come now, let’s get you out of those.” Clover gestured to the bolos. “Then we can talk further, in a more comfortable setting.”

Qrow flinched, and backed away. He didn’t miss the flash of sorrow on the other’s face. 

“Don’t touch me,” Qrow said. _You’ll just get hurt again._

The sorrow disappeared, replaced with a neutral mask. “I’ll ask a guard here to release you, then. You can—”

“You absolute _imbecile_ ,” Qrow spat, startling the other man. “Why would you release me? Now, right after getting that metal plate stuffed into your chest? I bet you can’t even wield Kingfisher properly right now, and who knows if you ever can, with your torso incapacitated—”

“I trust the doctors that worked on me, and I trust Atlesian equipment,” Clover interrupted. Then, his expression softened so much that Qrow felt the tears return. “And I decided that I trust you, too. I’m sorry it took me...” He looked away briefly, then braved it through. “I’m sorry I didn’t do so sooner.”

_I wanted to trust you, too._

“You’re making a mistake,” Qrow told him, gaze hardening, _willing_ the other Huntsman to understand that he was right the first time when it came to that.

“We both _made_ mistakes that night, but lucky us, the damage was minimal. We just need to track down Callows and—”

“Lucky us? _Lucky us?_ ” he yelled, unable to control the tears anymore. He pressed his bound hands to his face to hide. “Clo… I’m glad. I’m _so_ glad you made it. Maybe it’s the luckiest I’ve ever been in my life, someone I care about surviving, despite being around me. But _your_ luck will run out eventually, if you think releasing me now is a good idea. I’m a _hazard_ , you complete, utter _idiot._ ”

Clover gently took his fists, and cupped one side of his face. “Oh, Qrow, is this what it’s about? Your Semblance?”

“What else could it be? I’m not a direct murderer, _fine._ B-but, he never would’ve gotten Harb—” Brothers, he couldn’t say _that_ name either, that stupid fucking name his younger self thought was some sort of reclamation of the word. “He never would’ve gotten my weapon, if I hadn’t _left it out in the open._ I don’t even know if it’s my Semblance or my own damn incompetence—”

Clover’s arms wrapped around his waist, and he tensed. He could feel the bandages against his knuckles. There was heat everywhere except the center of the other man’s chest. 

“Your injuries—”

“Are _healing_ , Qrow. Listen.” One hand went up to nudge his head gently.

"What?"

" _Listen._ "

Confused, he obeyed. Then, he understood when a slow but sure rhythm came from where Clover’s heart was. Instinctively, he closed his eyes and leaned against the heartbeat with a desperate whimper. 

They stayed like that for a while, and sometime later Clover started stroking his back, tracing firm circles down near his hip, then up his spine. When a strong, warm palm cupped the back of his neck, Qrow shivered. 

“Are you going to let me free you now?” Clover murmured into his ear. "I'm sorry it took me this long, but the doctors insisted I stay in recovery for a while."

“Nothing has changed.”

“Hm, the people we put here usually resist arrest, and not the release.”

“It’s safer for everyone if I stayed here,” Qrow whispered. “You can just call on me when you need me, I’m okay with —”

The soothing motions stopped, and his anxiety flared up again. 

“You’re not staying a prisoner, Qrow.”

“It’s not really imprisonment if I’m willi—”

“ _Not_ even if it’s your doing.”

Qrow sighed, and retracted just enough to look at Clover’s face. “And what if I really resist?”

Clover raised an eyebrow with that cocky expression that Qrow missed. “Then you’ll be getting a new cell mate.”

“So? Who’s the poor soul that you’ll be sticking in here with me? It's their problem, not mine.”

“Me,” Clover replied with a grin.

“Clover,” Qrow snapped, the panic forcing the name out of him. “You’re injured, stop goofing around.”

The other Huntsman had the audacity to bury his face into Qrow’s neck and laugh. “Nope. If staying here will make you realize that I’m _alright_ and that you’re no danger to me, then so be it. Conveniently, I'm on leave for a while.”

Qrow bristled. “And what if I never change my mind?”

“Hmm, might need to change the wallpaper around here, then. Maybe bring in that game console you enjoy—”

“Clover.” His voice sounded broken enough that the other paused, lifting his head in concern. “I… you can’t.”

Clover’s hands slid from his back to his shoulders, squeezing. Then, he traced his way down Qrow’s arms, thumbing at his pulse points briefly. He ended up cradling Qrow’s fists, gently urging them to open.

“I won’t let you stay here,” Clover said, looking down at the bloody pin. Qrow thought he would take it back, and the shapeshifter wasn’t sure how he felt about that, fighting the urge to transform and fly away with the lucky charm. 

Clover did touch it, but he merely held it up a few centimeters above Qrow’s palms. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped the metal. 

It took a while, with all the dried blood, but eventually the pin became clean again. Not exactly as shiny and sterile as it was before, but better than when Qrow had it. 

“You can have it back,” Qrow managed, forcing his palms to stay open so that they wouldn't grab the item. 

Clover did take the pin, and all the energy left Qrow with his next exhale. 

Then, Clover spoke.

“I won’t let you stay here,” he repeated, bringing the pin up to the collar of Qrow's Huntsman attire, and attached it with care. His teal eyes were sad when locking with Qrow’s red, but there was nothing but honesty when he said, “But I won’t make you stay with me, either. Not if you don’t want to. As long as you promise me you’ll keep yourself safe, and…” He smiled painfully, patting the pin before stepping back. “Allow the others who love you, to actually show it.”

 _The_ others _who love you?_

Before Qrow could think deeply about that phrase, he just nodded dumbly. 

This is it, then. He can leave. Fly to somewhere near enough that he could be called for emergencies, but far away enough to stop him from causing harm to anyone. Everyone will be sa—

“Can I just ask something?” Clover asked, fully distancing himself from Qrow, taking the heat with him. He put his arms behind his back, falling into military stance.

“Anything,” Qrow replied with complete honesty. He shivered, missing the comfort of the other man already.

“Would you like to stay?”

“I told you already, I’m a—”

“Do you _want_ to stay, Qrow?” insisted the soldier, while moving to release his wrists. Clinical and mechanical movements only. Qrow curled unto himself, feeling like he was under interrogation. 

“I _can’t_ stay, not with—”

“Please stay.”

“I said I— what?”

Clover lost his mask again, eyes pleading. “If there’s any part of you that wants to stay, then please do. We’ve already lost so much time, and... And I haven’t gotten to know you as much as I wanted to.”

Qrow’s heart constricted, and he hissed. “Clover, I _want_ to, but—”

“Then stay.”

Qrow closed his eyes, unable to continue looking at the begging man in front of him. Yes, the big bad Atlas soldier was looking at Qrow as if he held the answers to his happiness, and… and...

He had already decided long ago that he would never deny Clover Ebi anything ever again. 

“If anything gets messed up,” he said, pursing his lips, as his eyes stayed on the ground between them. “If anything bad happens again, it’s your fault this time.”

Clover immediately returned to his space, arms tight around Qrow’s slumped shoulders. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a lucky man.” The tone was teasing, but it was the undercurrent of genuine joy that made Qrow slowly return the embrace. 

“I’m serious! It’s not on me!” Of course it would be, but… Qrow was willing to try. This time. One last time, he told himself, though he wasn’t sure if that was true.

“And I’m.” Clover nosed the side of Qrow’s neck, where a blush immediately started to spread. “So, _so_ happy.”

Qrow sighed outwardly, but inside… 

Something that wasn't exactly happiness awakened in his chest. Summer would call it glee. Ruby would call it joy. Yang would say it was what it was — an awakening. Tai would probably say it was sobriety.

Kinda felt like hope to him, not that he could be sure. 

Despite himself, he hid a small smile against the broad shoulder. The dread was still present, threatening, but maybe, _maybe,_ this could work out.

For this man holding Qrow as if... as if all _his_ hopes had been realized, he'd try.

Qrow will try, damn it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Still don't know if I'll continue GTG3 but Luck, Labor and Lying is still fun for me! Other than that, I'll be writing a lot of fair game for a bit, I think... I have a LOT of frustration to release lmao.  
> This specific fic might turn into a series of just... fluff and character introspection. Not sure yet.  
> I hope you all feel better, despite... those last episodes....
> 
> Let's create a prayer circle on tumblr: [robiness](https://robiness.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [See You Heal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968162) by [Firekitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firekitten/pseuds/Firekitten)




End file.
